


Wings

by Starwolf69



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley doesn't like having his wings touched, M/M, Wing Grooming, kid fic but the kids are snakes but so is one of the parents, wiggleverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22639030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starwolf69/pseuds/Starwolf69
Summary: Having wings is hard.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 144
Collections: Wiggleverse





	1. Aziraphale and Crowley

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley doesn't like having his wings touched except by his angel. However, the snildren want to help. 
> 
> The tiniest allusion to maybe a little wing Adult feels when the children are safely in the house.
> 
> Little nervous about this one.

Crowley sat on a low stool, shirtless, in the middle of a plastic wading pool in the back garden. Aziraphale stood behind him, pouring warm water on the demon’s exposed wings. Crowley shuddered hard. His wings were typically very sensitive but had become more so since the angel had taken interest in regularly grooming him. His wings twitched at the warm water, instinctively fluttering and flinging water everywhere. Aziraphale laughed and tapped his head.

“Naughty demon!” he teased. “I’m all wet now.”

“Sorry,” Crowley mumbled. “Just . . . you know.”

Aziraphale nodded and stroked his hair. “I know, pet. But we need to do this regularly.”

The angel began running his fingers through the feathers, gently letting the shed feathers fall into the pool. He stepped back and turned to the small patio table where he had laid out several brushes and combs for their grooming session. Cornering the demon for a good groom was tough on the best days, so when Crowley voluntarily settled on the grooming stool for him, he took full advantage of the situation. Crowley had already groomed the angel’s wings so the pool was holding a mix of black and white feathers. Crowley noticed a young snake slithering up into the pool to play in the feathers. 

“We have company, angel,” Crowley told him, lightly petting the snake’s back with his long toes. 

“Where there’s one, four more are sure to pop up,” Aziraphale answered taking up a stiff-bristled brush and beginning to brush Crowley’s right primaries. 

The demon’s wings flapped hard at the contact, making the feathers at his feet flutter. The snake wrapped around his ankle as a soft white feather landed on its head. 

Crowley smiled. “Clem, you look quite fetching with that feather on your head.”

The snake looked up at him, forked tongue poking out to tickle Crowley’s leg. The demon tried to think about anything that wasn’t his angel messing with his wings. It was a very intimate thing having your wings groomed and felt so damn good Aziraphale did it. Any other time having his wings touched was annoying and bordered on painful. He sighed softly and relaxed a little until he heard the inevitable invasion of children. His angel’s touch on his wings was becoming annoying as the intimacy of the moment had been shattered as more hands dove into his wings.

“OOH!” Junior shouted, picking up a comb. “I wanna help!”

“Me too!” Datura said grabbing a brush and starting to brush Crowley’s right secondaries.

Angelica petted Crowley’s left wing. “Father’s wings are so pretty and they feel so warm in the sun!”

Rosa looked in the pool. “Azirafather already had his done. See? Now it’s Father’s turn.”

“Darlings,” Azriaphale said gently. “You need to be VERY gentle with Father’s wings. He’s not used to being groomed like I am.”

Just at that moment, Junior’s comb snagged. Furrowing his brow, he pulled, trying to get it loose. Crowley yelped and his wings flapped hard, comb still stuck in his left one. He fought every instinct to jump up and banish his wings to the aether where they typically existed. Aziraphale frowned and gently rubbed the demon’s back until his wings settled. 

“Shhh,” he soothed. “Easy, my love. Easy. Let’s get that tangle out, shall we?”

“Sorry, Father,” Junior said softly. 

Crowley croaked, “It’s okay, spawn. Just caught me off guard.”

Aziraphale gently worked the comb from where it was caught in a tangle of feathers in Crowley’s tertiaries, close to his shoulder. Crowley hissed and flinched. Angelica shot a dirty look at Junior who chewed his lower lip, clearly worried. 

“Azirafather? Is Father okay?” Junior asked in a small voice.

The angel nodded, “You just found a tangle in a rather sensitive place. Once I get this loose down out, he’ll be right as rain.”

“Wings are troublesome,” Angelica said to no one in particular. “Like bras and all that lot.”

 _And legs,_ Clem added.

Aziraphale finally got the tangle smoothed, dropping the loose down into the pool. “Let’s give Father a minute before we continue.”

Crowley breathed through the overstimulation of having his wings handled. He was sweating and shaking ever so gently. Aziraphale rubbed his back between his wings. He waited for the trembling to stop before starting again. 

“Let’s do this,” he suggested. “Junior, you work on the big feathers on the outside edges. Tura, you can do the bits above that. I’ll do the ones closest to Father’s back.”

Angelica found a loose feather during her petting. She plucked it out, eliciting another yelp from the demon. She looked at Aziraphale, mouth open a little.

“It was loose,” she said softly. “I thought . . .”

“It’s okay, darling,” Aziraphale told her. “It hurts a little if you pull from the end. You need to find where it is held by the others and pull from there, okay?”

Once his right wing was done, they moved to the left, following the same plan. Angelica helped Junior work on Crowley’s primaries while Rosa helped Datura. When they were finally done, Crowley was one huge raw nerve. His wings twitched and his back was hurting from staying as still as possible. Aziraphale patted his back.

“Have a stretch, my love. All we have left to do is a little wing oil to keep everything nice and smooth and we’ll leave you be.”

Rosa patted Crowley’s arm and soothed him like a child. “Such a good love you are being, Father.”

Crowley hissed at the touch and shuddered more. Rosa gently petted him, trying to comfort him. He gritted his teeth, the gentle stroking making him feel worse. His stomach lurched a little, making him growl softly.

Aziraphale put his hand over Rosa’s. “No light touches right now, love. It will make him feel worse. Like an itch that you can’t get to that someone keeps tickling. Try like this.”

He massaged Crowley’s arm firmly, smiling when this demon began to relax a little. Rosa followed the angel’s example, rubbing as firmly as she could. Crowley gave her a weak smile. Angelica moved to rub his other arm, making him flinch a little at the pressure she used. He was sure that the children loved him, but they were killing him right now. He would need a little time to come back from all this touching. Demons didn’t touch each other unless it was in aggression or lust. The closest he ever got to a wing grooming was Beelzebub disinterestedly picking out some loose feathers every now and then when the itching got too bad. He did the same for zer. They didn’t trust each other a lot, but they did trust each other more than they did any other demon. Even Dagon didn’t get to touch Beelzebub’s wings. He pushed those memories away roughly. 

Aziraphale said with a nod. “Okay, children. I need you to take the brushes and combs into my and Father’s bathroom and put them on the counter by the sink. Someone can get the tea on so it’s ready when Father and I come in.”

“We still want to help!” Junior pouted. 

Aziraphale shook his head. “No, this part is . . . uncomfortable at best. It would make Father feel better to have some privacy while I get the wing oil on.”

"Are you going to hurt Father?" Datura asked, eyes huge. "Please don't, Azirafather."

"I'm going to to my best not to hurt him," Aziraphale told them. "But it will be better for him if it's just us."

Angelica looked worried. "Maybe you shouldn't do this part."

Aziraphale sighed. "I'll take good care of Father, my loves. I promise. You all go on now. We'll be in directly."

The children gathered up the brushed and combs and carried them inside. Clem gave Crowley’s leg a final squeeze before slithering up Datura’s body to rest across their shoulders. Three pairs of yellow eyes and two blue looked back at the angel and demon, clearly worried. Aziraphale gave him a brave smile and nodded for them to go in the house. When the children were inside, Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s shoulders then carded his fingers through the demon’s shoulder-length, flame-colored hair. The demon purred at that – he loved having his hair messed with, always had and probably always would. 

“Last bit, my love,” he murmured as Crowley nuzzled against his belly. 

Crowley purred, “Keep messing with my hair? Please? It . . . it makes it better.”

Aziraphale continued stroking Crowley’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp as he stroked. Crowley groaned and shivered, his wings twitching as well. The angel kept up his petting until he felt the demon was distracted enough for him to begin massaging one of his oil glands. Wing oil was essential for keeping the feathers in good condition and healthy. However, getting oil from the oil gland could be either very uncomfortable or very pleasurable, depending on how it was gotten. Aziraphale wanted to make wing grooming as pleasurable as possible for his beloved. He continued running his fingers through Crowley’s hair and one hand slid to the base of the demon’s right wing. He gently felt for the tell-tale bump that was the oil gland. Once he found it, he gently rubbed that spot while he stroked Crowley’s hair a little more firmly. He took a slow, steadying breath and firmly massaged the gland until he felt the demon tense a little. He applied some deep pressure to the gland and gently pulled Crowley’s hair. The demon groaned and shuddered as oil began to flow from the gland. Aziraphale continued rubbing until he had enough to coat his hands. He ran his oily fingers through Crowley’s right wing feathers. The demon hissed and panted softly, clearly uncomfortable. 

Once the right wing was oiled, Aziraphale moved to the left side. Crowley keened softly, yellow eyes looking up at the angel. Aziraphale smiled at him and kissed the tip of his nose. Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s waist, rubbing his face against his stomach. Aziraphale moved so he was in front of his love, letting Crowley rest his forehead against his belly. He began stroking the demon’s hair again. Crowley whimpered softly, holding tightly to his angel. 

“Now, now,” he soothed. “You are doing so well. Just one more and we’re done. Just hold on to me, okay?”

Crowley nodded and held on tightly, rubbing his face against the angel’s middle. Aziraphale continued stroking Crowley’s hair as he moved his hand to the left oil gland. He massaged the gland firmly as Crowley shivered against him. He stroked the demon’s hair with the other hand, softly praising him.

“So beautiful, my love,” he cooed. “It’s almost done. I’m so proud of how well you are doing. Your wings will be even more beautiful once they are oiled. Just relax. Just relax for me.”

Aziraphale began applying deep pressure to the left oil gland. Crowley tensed and shuddered hard, biting back a groan as the oil began to flow into Aziraphale’s hand. The angel rubbed the oil into his hands and began rubbing the oil into Crowley’s left wing. Crowley let out a few deep, shuddering breaths as he still clung to Aziraphale. When he finished oiling the demon’s left wing, Aziraphale gently stroked Crowley’s hair and shoulders, trying to help him relax. Crowley finally looked up, his yellow eyes looking sleepy and relaxed. Aziraphale smiled down at him. 

“Would you like a little nap?” the angel asked softly. “Or would you rather have a bask out here?”

Crowley gave his wings one last flap before tucking them back into the aether. He rolled his shoulders and rested his head back against Aziraphale’s stomach. He hummed softly, falling into a light doze. Aziraphale let him relax for a few minutes before gently rousing him. 

“You can’t sleep here, my love,” he murmured. “Come on, darling. Let’s get you out of this pool and into bed for a nap.”

Crowley stood up, blinking blurrily. He stumbled out of the pool, nearly falling, and staggered into the house. He went straight into the bedroom he shared with Aziraphale and fell onto the bed. He was asleep in no time, snoring softly. Aziraphale covered him with a soft tartan blanket. He kissed the demon’s cheek softly and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind him.   
The children were sitting at the table, tea and biscuits waiting. Aziraphale settled into his place and sipped at the cup of tea that had been prepared for him. 

“Is Father okay?” Junior asked softly.

“Of course, darling,” Aziraphale assured all of them. “Father just needed a bit of a rest. He’s not used to having his wings touched that much. Once he has a nap, he’ll be back to himself.”

The children finished their tea and cleared the mugs and plates before disappearing to different places in the house. Datura headed out to the garage to tinker with an old VCR they had come across. Rosa went to her reading nook to finish a book. Angelica headed out to the garden to practice penalty kicks. Clem settled in a patch of sun in the family room for a nap. Aziraphale became lost in a book in his office. 

Junior was pleased that no one was paying attention to him. He padded through the kitchen, past Aziraphale’s office, keeping an eye on the angel. He very quietly opened the door to his fathers’ bedroom. Crowley was curled up under the blanket, only some tufts of red hair identifying the lump as him. Junior silently crossed to the bed and crawled up on it. He settled under the blanket, going very still when he felt Crowley move. The demon’s forked tongue poked out in his sleep, scenting the area. He opened one eye to find his young double gazing at him. 

“What?” he groaned. 

“I wanted to nap with you,” Junior told him. "Just . . . just to be sure you are okay."

Crowley smiled sleepily and wrapped himself around his child. Junior cuddled close, burying his nose against Crowley’s shoulder. He yawned as the warmth of the blanket and the closeness of his father began to make him sleepy. 

“I love you, Father,” Junior murmured. 

“Mmm. Love you too, spawn,” Crowley mumbled. “Go t’ sleep now or I’m kickin’ you out.”

Junior closed his eyes and drifted into sleep. When Aziraphale came to check on his demon, he smiled at Crowley and Junior curled up under the blanket. He touched both of their cheeks and put another blanket on their feet before quietly exiting the room. He went outside to gather the discarded feathers from the wading pool and put it away until the next grooming time. As he approached the pool, a soft smile came to his face. Clem was asleep in the pile of feathers, enjoying the scent of his fathers and the warmth of the sun. Petting the snake lightly, the angel decided that clean up could wait until he finished a few more chapters.


	2. Rosa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosa gets her wings.

Rosa loved sitting in her garden nook with a good book and a cup of tea. Her current passion was Victorian romances. Oh, they just didn’t make men like Mr. Darcy or Heathcliff any more. Tucking her feet up in her hanging swing, she gazed out over the field that led to the orchard. 

Her gentleman caller rides across the field, waiving at her as she sits in the garden. She mark hers place with a nosegay of wild flowers. Smoothing her long, full skirts, she wraps her shawl around her shoulders and adjusts her wide-brimmed sunhat after standing up. She walks to the edge of the garden to meet her young man, eyes cast down demurely. 

“Good day, Miss Fell-Crowley,” he would say, tipping his hat to her. “A fine day, is it not?”

“It is,” she answers. 

He dismounts his horse, tying it to a small iron fence that surrounded the garden. She gives him another tiny smile. He enters the garden and offers his arm. She takes it, tucking her hand against his forearm. He smiles down at her, listening as she tells him about the latest book she read. He loves literature as much as she does and he encourages her to read and think about important issues in society. They walk through the well-manicured gardens, talking about London society as well as what is happening in their village. 

“I hear your brother, Clem, and Miss Molly have been keeping company,” he says. 

Rosa nods, “My fathers are very pleased. Clem is going to ask for her hand soon. Molly is like a sister to me. I can’t wait for her to be my real sister.”

A servant girl comes into the garden, carrying a tray of lemonade and biscuits. She places the tray on the garden table. She drops a curtsey to Rosa, pinning her eyes on her shoes. 

“Tea time, Miss Rosa. Cook thought lemonade would be nice for you and your . . . guest.”

Rosa gives a little nod and a tight smile. “Thank you, Penelope.”

“Yes, m’lady,” Penelope says as she hurries back to the kitchens to continue her work.

Her gentleman holds the chair for her and she settles into it gracefully. He sits across from her, obviously smitten with her. She pours the lemonade and serves him a biscuit. She nibbles at her own and sips from her glass. 

“Miss Fell-Crowley,” he says, “I . . . I have been thinking about something and I would like to speak with you about it.”

“Yes?” she asks.

He swallows hard and takes her hand. “Would you . . . would you accompany me to the ball at Edlington house next weekend?”

“I . . . I would, but you will have to speak to my fathers,” she answers coyly. “It is what is proper.”

He gets a determined look on his face and stands. “I will go speak to them right now. Please excuse me.”

She waits in the garden with bated breath for him to return. When he finally does, she stands, hoping that her fathers were too aggressive with him. As he approaches the table, she puts out her hands, which he takes in his, gently squeezing. 

“Your fathers said yes!”

She smiles, “Oh! That is wonderful!”

She blinked, tiny smile still playing across her lips. She shoulders felt strange. Turning her head slowly, she was met with two white wings behind her. Her eyes widened. Wings? Wings! She jumped up, turning a few times, trying to get a better look.

“AZIRAFATHER!”

The angel appeared moments after she shrieked. His eyes grew huge as his hand moved to cover his mouth. He moved carefully toward her. Very gently, he touched her left wing. 

“W-What is happening to me?” Rosa asked softly. 

“Darling, your wings have manifested,” Aziraphale said gently. “Father and I wondered if this would happen.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about this?” she cried. “What are we going to do now?”

Aziraphale circled her slowly. Her wings looked very much like his own. Snowy white, they weren’t as full as his but she was still growing. He smiled at the four black and two red primaries on both sides close to her body. He moved back in front of her, letting his own wings manifest. 

“Sweetheart, can you move them?” he asked, fluttering his own wings. “Like this?”

Rosa thought hard, making her wings tremble. She looked up at Aziraphale, fear clouding her blue eyes. He smiled at her, holding her hands. 

“Can you make them disappear?” he asked. “Just think about them going to the aether.”

“But will they come back?” Rosa asked. 

Aziraphale nodded. “You can call them back any time you wish.”

She scrunched her face and thought hard about her wings going to the aether. Aziraphale nodded, smiling. Rosa looked over her shoulder then grinned up at him.

“I did it!”

“Yes, you did,” he answered, squeezing her hands. “How . . . how did you call them, dear?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I was . . . I was having a bit of a daydream and they just . . . happened.”

“A daydream?” he asked.

She blushed and nodded. “Just lost in thinking about the romance book I was reading.”

Aziraphale nodded seriously. “Well, that does happen. You’ll learn how to keep them from manifesting when you don’t want them to.”

“Can I . . . fly?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. They definitely aren’t strong enough yet for any sort of flying. I suppose we’ll have to see. I will teach you how to groom them. Father and I will help until you get the hang of it.”

“Will the others get wings too?” she asked softly.

Aziraphale shrugged. “I don’t know, pet lamb. Maybe. We’ll have to see what happens. But if you got yours, I’d say that if the others are going to get them, it will be soon.”

“Are they . . . pretty?”

“Oh, my darling,” Aziraphale said, pulling her close. “They are beautiful, just like you. They are white like mine with a few red and black primary feathers, like Father’s.”

“Father has red feathers? I thought they were all black.”

“Father . . .,” Aziraphale said slowly, “Father used to have red feathers mixed in with the white. Before . . . before he fell.”

“Will seeing mine make him sad?” she asked.

“Oh, no, love. Father will be so proud. He loves you all so very much. He will be so happy that your wings show the colors of both of us.”

She was quiet for a few moments before murmuring, “Azirafather? Can you help me keep them tucked away while I’m in school? I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Of course, my love. Of course.”

Father and daughter walked through the garden, her hand tucked into his crooked elbow. They walked slowly back to the house enjoying the beauty of the gardens and the pleasure of each other’s company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to Kedreeva for the sandbox and to Quilly and OlwenDylluan for all the encouragement.


	3. Datura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Datura's wings manifest, making them more than a little unsure about how they feel about it.

“Rev the engine,” Datura called from under the bonnet.

They listened carefully to the engine. It definitely was off-time. They waved for the engine to be shut off. They approached the driver’s side door and opened it. A woman got out, wiggling her skin-tight jeans back on to her hips. She closed the door and leaned back against the car, crossing her arms over her ample bosom. 

“What do you think, gorgeous?” she asked. 

“I can fix it,” they said softly, wiping their hands on their coveralls. “I need to keep her overnight though.”

The woman laughed, “Not the first time I’ve heard that, sweetheart. Where’s that gorgeous daddy of yours? I haven’t seen him in a while. I swear, you look just like him.”

Datura blushed. “Father . . . Father has been busy. I’m sure he’s around here. Somewhere.”

The woman give him a lascivious smile and handed over her keys. “Tell him Jeanie says hi.”

“I . . . I will do, Ms. Jeanie. So, I can have her ready tomorrow around three?”

Another car pulled into the driveway. It parked and a person about Datura’s age got out. They couldn’t tell if this person was male or female as they were a perfect blend of both. They watched as the other teen approached.

“Ready, Auntie Jeanie?”

“Yeah,” Jeanie said. “Pretty here says that my car will be done tomorrow afternoon so you have to bring me back.”

The teen looked over at Datura and smiled. “Oh, yeah?”

“This is my niece, Amber,” Jeanie told Datura. 

Amber offered their hand. Datura shook it, giving them a questioning look. “I’m Datura Fell-Crowley. My pronouns are they/them.”

Amber nodded. “I’m kinda friends with your sisters, Rosa and Angelica. My pronouns are zie/zir.”

Datura stared at zim. Zie was dressed in a tight v-neck t-shirt, jeans, combat boots, and a flannel shirt. They blushed deeply and turned to put the bonnet down on Jeanie’s car. 

“If I get her done early, I’ll give you a call,” Datura said.

Jeanie laughed, “Not the first time I’ve heard that either. I have to get to work. See you tomorrow, Pretty.”

Amber smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

They watched Amber and Jeanie walk to Amber’s car. Once they were both in, they waved to Datura and took off out of the driveway. Datura shook their head. Amber drove like zie was taught by Crowley. Datura headed into the garage to get their tools to get started on the car. 

It didn’t take long for Datura to become lost in their work. Their mind drifted as they worked on the car. They had started taking in small repair jobs in order to make some money. They had their eye on a Vauxhall that was for sale in town. Junior and Clem were going to help them get the money together as long as they also could use the car. While Datura’s first love would always be the Bentley, they wanted a car that they could bond to like Father had with done with his car. 

As they changed the oil, their mind drifted to Amber. Zie seemed like a decent person. Maybe they would ask Angelica and Rosa about zim. They wondered if zie would consider going to the quarter-mile track with them one evening. Not a date or anything, just two people going to the track to enjoy and evening of racing and cars. They didn’t even know if zie liked cars. 

They pick zie up in their Vauxhall. Two racing helmets sit in the backseat and Bowie is on the stereo. The Vauxhall selected Bowie for Datura, just like the Bentley had. Datura couldn’t help but feel like the Bentley was teaching their car. They go to the door where Amber is waiting for them. After an awkward hug, they lead zim to the car, holding the door open for zim. 

“You gonna run tonight?” Amber asks, settling in.

“Maybe.”

They chat the whole way to the track. Datura couldn’t believe they found someone like Amber. Someone who really got what they are and what they need. They found a place to park and turned off the car. 

“Wanna get something to eat first?” they suggest.

“Anything you want, Pretty,” Amber answers. “I’ll get dinner tonight.”

It thrilled Datura right down to their toes when Amber called them Pretty. They didn’t know what to make of the pet name at first, but now they almost gave a happy wiggle every time zie called them by it. They called zir Dear or Love, much like Azirafather did with Father.

They walk to the concession stand, arms around each other’s waists. Datura finds a picnic table for them while Amber gets the food. Amber settles across from them, giving them a little smile. They both eat heartily, comfortable enough with each other that neither feels they have to be something other than they really are. The scent of exhaust and the sound of revving engines surrounds them. 

“Tura,” Amber says with a smile, “You have a little ketchup at the corner of your mouth.”

Datura blushes and licks at the wrong side. Amber leans across the table and places a soft kiss at the corner of their mouth, licking the ketchup away. They turn to look at zim, gently bumping noses. Zie kisses them gently on the lips before slowly pulling away and sitting down to finish eating.

“Ouch!” Datura hissed, pinching their finger.

They sighed softly and rolled their shoulders. Something felt weird. They did it again. Their shoulders felt heavy and a little achey. Slowly looking over their shoulder, they caught sight of dark feathers. Feathers? Oh, no! They froze over the engine compartment, trying not to panic and failing. They wanted Father. They let out a tiny whimper, afraid to move. 

Clem slithered up on the side of the car, his eyes wide. Datura panted softly, holding tightly on to the car. Clem took off, returning quickly with Crowley. The demon skidded to a stop, starting at Datura’s wings that were gently flapping. Crowley approached slowly, trying to remain calm. 

“Tura?” he asked softly.

“Father,” they answered weakly. “I don’t feel so good.”

Crowley moved close and coaxed them to let go of the car. He held them close, helping them into the shade and on to the ground. He gently rubbed their back, right between their wings. Datura groaned softly. 

“What happened?” they asked softly.

Crowley sighed. “Well, it seems your wings manifested. Just breathe slowly for me, okay?”

Datura nodded, trying to slow their breathing. They looked at Crowley, looking very young and very frightened. That look pulled at Crowley’s heartstrings. He smiled softly. 

“It’s okay, darling,” he told them. “Rosa got hers already. Azirafather and I figured that the rest of you would be getting your soon.” 

Datura closed their eyes, keeping their breathing slow and steady. “What . . . what do they look like?”

Crowley smiled. “Beautiful. They are white with big patches of black – like a pinto horse. You have red feathers at the very top and by your shoulders.”

“Red?” they frowned. “Where did the red come from?”

“Me,” Crowley said softly. “My wings used to be red and white before . . . you know.”

“Oh.” 

They were quiet for a few moments. Crowley called his own wings forward, rolling his shoulders. He touch Datura’s cheek. 

“Can you hold them still?” he asked. “Just think about stilling them.”

Datura concentrated, slowing the flapping to a stop. They looked at Crowley, hoping they did it right. The demon smiled. 

“Azirafather and I will help you groom them when it’s time. You’ll learn how to do it on your own eventually.”

“Great,” Datura growled. “Just great. As if I’m not already a huge freak, now I’m a freak with wings!”

“Whoa!” Crowley frowned. “Who said that?”

Datura hissed, “No one has to! I know that I’m weird. I just . . . I just didn’t want anything that would make me weirder.”

“Oh, daring!” Crowley said, pulling them into a hug. “You are NOT a freak! You are perfect just as you are.”

“You have to say that! I don’t want anyone to see!” they said, panic creeping into their voice. “Not now.”

Crowley soothed, “You’ll learn how to control them. Sometimes . . . sometimes they will just manifest but you should feel it starting and be able to stop it. However, you must keep them groomed. You can get a painful infection if you don’t.”

“Father, I can’t do this,” they said softly. “I can’t.”

“You can, my love,” Crowley told them. “I know it feels odd, but I promise you can do this. Your wings are as much a part of you as your red hair or your love of cars. And I love them because they are a part of you.”

“Yes, but . . .,” Datura stammered a little. “I don’t know. It just feels like one more thing.”

“I know it feels like it’s a lot right now. You lot are growing so fast, it’s hard to get my head around it. But, like Azirafather said, we’re in this together.”

Datura nodded. They felt their wings flutter. It felt very weird, but if Rosa could handle it, Datura knew they could too.   
“How do I make them go away?” they asked, sniffling. “I need to finish up Ms. Jeanie’s car.”

The demon smiled. “Just think about them going to the aether.”

Datura thought carefully and shivers as their wings were tucked away into the aether. Crowley let his wings slip back to the aether. He held his child close, making them feel safe and protected. Datura relaxed against their father. 

“You lot are unique in the universe. I guess all we can count on is weird, yeah? But you aren’t a freak. Any more than I am or Azirafather is,” Crowley said firmly. “You are absolutely perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better spawn than you lot.”

“Father?”

“Yes, spawn?”

“I love you.”

Crowley kissed the top of their head and murmured, “I love you, too, my baby.”’

“I need to get back to work,” Datura said standing slowly.

“Want some help?” Crowley asked with a tiny smile.

Datura grinned. “Absolutely.”


End file.
